The corridors of Seoul National University twisted like veins in a dying body. Kang Si-hun's sneakers slapped against cracked tiles, each step echoing louder than the last. Sweat drenched his shirt, sticking to his skin like a second layer of fear. The air hung heavy with the stench of smoke from the chemistry building across the quad—flames had gutted it hours ago, leaving blackened skeletons of lab equipment visible through shattered windows. Screams pierced the distance, raw and desperate, from the dorms where students had barricaded themselves. Or tried to.
"Hyung, don't slow down!" Jae-min gasped from ahead, his voice cracking. He was two years younger, a freshman Si-hun had taken under his wing since the outbreak hit three days ago. They'd met in the cafeteria chaos, when zombies—former classmates—had burst through the doors. Jae-min had frozen, wide-eyed, until Si-hun yanked him away. "We stick together," Si-hun had said then, sharing his last bottle of water. "No one gets left behind."
Now, Jae-min glanced back, his face pale under the flickering emergency lights. "The lecture hall—it's just ahead. We can barricade there."
Si-hun nodded, gripping the fire extinguisher like a lifeline. His arms ached from swinging it earlier, cracking skulls in the library. Bodies littered the halls now—professors in bloodied suits, students with backpacks still strapped on, their eyes vacant and milky. One corpse twitched as they passed, fingers clawing at the air. Si-hun stomped its head, the crunch vibrating up his leg. Blood splattered his jeans, warm and sticky.
They'd been inseparable. Last night, huddled in an empty classroom, Jae-min had confessed his fears. "I don't want to turn into one of them, hyung." Si-hun had clapped his shoulder. "You won't. We'll find a way out of this hell." Promises like that kept them going. Jae-min had even shared his hidden stash of energy bars, splitting the last one. "For luck," he'd said with a weak grin.
But luck was running thin. Groans echoed from behind—zombies shambling closer, their footsteps uneven, dragging limbs. The smell hit next: rot, like spoiled meat left in the sun. Si-hun's stomach churned. "Faster!"
They slammed into the lecture hall. Desks overturned in heaps, chalkboards smeared with frantic notes: "Help us!" Papers fluttered under their feet like dying birds. Outside, through grimy windows, Seoul smoldered—skyscrapers punctured by fires, streets clogged with abandoned cars. The city that never slept was now a graveyard.
"Barricade the door!" Si-hun barked, shoving it shut. Wood splintered under the impact. Jae-min helped drag a podium over, muscles straining. Thuds started immediately—fists pounding, nails scratching. The door bowed inward.
Si-hun wiped sweat from his brow. "We climb out the window. Roof access from there."
Jae-min paused, eyes shifting. His hand landed on Si-hun's shoulder—firm at first, then a shove. Hard.
Si-hun stumbled, extinguisher clattering. "What the fuck—?"
The door exploded open. Splinters flew. A zombie lunged—former TA, tie askew, jaw unhinged. Teeth sank into Si-hun's forearm. Fire erupted through his nerves. Flesh tore with a wet rip, blood spurting in arcs. The creature's breath reeked of decay, hot against his skin. Si-hun screamed, swinging wildly. The extinguisher connected, caving the skull, but pain blinded him. More zombies poured in, a tide of gray flesh and snapping jaws.
Jae-min vaulted the windowsill, vanishing without a word. Betrayal stabbed deeper than the bite. "You... bastard..." Si-hun gasped, vision tunneling. The wound throbbed, veins darkening already. Cold spread from the bite, numbing his fingers. He backed against a desk, legs buckling. Zombies closed in, their groans a chorus of hunger. One grabbed his ankle—nails digging in. He kicked free, but weakness flooded him. Heart raced, then slowed. Memories flashed: Jae-min's laugh during late-night study sessions, the promise of survival. All shattered.
Darkness claimed him. Cold, absolute. No light at the end—just void.
In that emptiness, a hum started. Low, mechanical, like a server booting up. Blue text materialized in his mind's eye, glowing faintly.
[System Activation: Host in critical state. Initializing emergency protocol.]
The voice echoed—cold, impersonal, like a AI devoid of empathy. It resonated in his skull, vibrating his thoughts.
[Cloning initiated. Using host's fingernail as base material. Transferring consciousness.]
What? Si-hun's awareness flickered. He felt... pulled. Torn from the dying shell. Sensations returned in waves: prickling skin, reforming bones snapping into place. In the void, he glimpsed the process—cells multiplying from a tiny fragment, weaving muscle fibers, veins threading like roots. Skin stretched over the frame, pale and new. It was grotesque, a body birthed from nothing amid the gore. The hum intensified, a whir of invisible machinery.
Si-hun's eyes snapped open. He gasped, air rushing into fresh lungs. The lecture hall swam into focus—same chaos, same metallic tang of blood. But his arm—unmarked, whole. No pain. He flexed his fingers, marveling at the unfamiliar perfection. His clothes were clean, replicated down to the tear in his jeans.
Across the room, movement. A figure stirred amid the debris. Si-hun's heart stopped. It was him—his face, contorted in rage. Skin ashen, eyes rolled back to whites. The old body, bitten and turned. It snarled, saliva dripping from blackened lips. Clawed hands pushed off the floor, joints popping.
"No..." Si-hun whispered, bile rising. That thing wore his shirt, stained with his blood. It crawled forward, faster than expected. Memories assaulted him: mornings in the mirror, that same jawline, now slack and feral. Disgust twisted his gut. This was death staring back—his death.
The zombie lunged. Si-hun dodged, grabbing a splintered desk leg. Wood bit into his palms. It swiped, nails raking his sleeve. Close—too close. The stench hit: rot from its mouth, his mouth, hot breath on his neck. They grappled, rolling across the floor. Papers stuck to bloodied skin. It pinned him, jaws snapping inches from his throat. Si-hun's mind screamed—This is me. I'm killing myself.
He shoved back, knee to its gut. It wheezed, but didn't relent. Strength surged in him—new body, untainted. He swung the leg. Crack. Jaw shattered. It recoiled, but charged again. Si-hun pinned it down, knee on its chest. The eyes—his eyes—locked on him, empty of recognition. Only hunger.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, though to whom? He brought the leg down. Once. Skull dented. Twice. Brains oozed. Thrice. It twitched, then stilled. Warm fluid splattered his face. He retched, dropping the weapon. Hands trembled. What had he become? A murderer of his own corpse.
[Kill Confirmed: Zombie (Former Host Body). +10 Days Lifespan.]
The blue window hovered, translucent, edges flickering like static. Text scrolled:
[Level 1: Clone Self Unlocked. Current Lifespan: 11 Days. Clone body will dissolve if depleted—melting into acidic slurry in 3 seconds. No traces left. Seek kills to extend. Clones limited to 1. Obedience mandatory.]
Si-hun stared, breath ragged. Eleven days. A timer on his existence. His fingertips tingled—faint burn, a warning from the system. Not just numbers; it was real. Dissolve. He imagined it: flesh bubbling, bones liquefying. Panic clawed his chest. He needed more—kills, days, whatever it took.
Outside, voices. "Hey! You alive in there?"
Si-hun crept to the window. A group in the courtyard—five, armed with bats, pipes, one with a crowbar. Their leader, burly with a scar across his cheek, waved. Looked like survivors, but after Jae-min... Trust? They could be bait, or worse—prey. Groans rose from the hallway—more zombies approaching.
[Lifespan Pool: 11 Days. Time is ticking.]
Si-hun's grip tightened on the sill. Join them? Or use them to farm more days? His reflection in the glass stared back—cold, determined. The door rattled. Decisions now.